


Centauri, Chapter 1: Introductions, Bloodshed, and White Fur

by guillotineChamberlain



Series: Centauri [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Gen, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Knives, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Science Fiction, Stabbing, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 21:03:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guillotineChamberlain/pseuds/guillotineChamberlain
Summary: The introductory piece for an original science fiction story set in an original universe, with original characters.





	Centauri, Chapter 1: Introductions, Bloodshed, and White Fur

Far from the familiar star systems of the Sol region, over 400 light years from Earth, one can find a massive bright red star named Betelgeuse. Around this old, dying star orbits two habitable worlds, but the one of importance at this moment is a small dwarf planet named Crionis. About half the diameter of Pluto, Crionis is home to a massive city that covers its entire surface. Its population is hard to estimate, but it is most likely is around 10 billion people. 10 billion souls packed onto a planetary body smaller than Earth’s moon.

If one searched the slums and backwaters of the planet-sized city, they could perhaps find a small tavern. This rusty, foreboding structure is where our story begins.

* * *

 

The walls of the building were dilapidated and falling apart. What was once strong metal alloy had since rusted and flaked away to reveal the wooden support structure underneath. The oaken beams were crawling with insects, eating away at what wooden structure was left.

In the corner of the room sat a mysterious figure. Well, he was mysterious to everyone else present in the room. But not mysterious to us. His name was Henoba Arkata, and that’s all you need to know about him right now. Besides his appearance, of course. He was about 5 foot 11 inches tall, not counting his horns. Yes, horns. This man was clearly not a human. His body was covered with a thick, white fur, and his two horns stretched for about another foot above his head.

To an uneducated observer, he appeared to be a bipedal goat humanoid. And to an educated observer… he would still appear to be a bipedal goat humanoid. He was a Centaurian, a race of, well, bipedal goat humanoids. From Alpha Centauri of course, hence the name. Fun fact: Alpha Centauri is the closest star system to the Earth, only about 4 light years away from our Sun. There, I hope you learned something interesting.

Henoba twirled his gun in his hand as he sat back and observed the scene. In a scummy tavern like this, nobody would care that he was openly carrying a firearm. The bar reeked of fermentation and body odor: clearly the people here didn’t give a rat’s ass about personal hygiene. Two patrons at a nearby table were arguing about the effectiveness of stabbing versus slicing to remove someone’s appendages. Henoba scoffed. Not only was their conversation pointless and disgusting, he also knew that a swift chop was the best method for dismemberment.

“Are you gonna just sit around, or are you gonna order a drink? Because if you’re not buying, then I’m gonna ask you to get the fuck out of my bar,” the bartender suddenly growled.

Henoba gave him a glance. The bartender was human, and a rather large one at that. Scars ran down his slightly chubby face; mementos from hundreds of barfights over the years. His chin was covered with stubble; clearly a poor attempt at growing a beard. His armpits were stained, and he was dripping sweat. Henoba finally figured out where the horrible smell was coming from.

He figured it would be in his best interest to order a drink. “Yeah, uh, I’ll have a Centaurian vodka.”

The bartender laughed. “Sure you can handle that, goat? You may be a Centaurian, but you look like a wuss to me.”

Henoba glanced up at his horns before looking back at the bartender. “Just give me my damn drink. I don’t want no trouble.”

“Fine. One Centaurian vodka coming up.” The bartender grabbed some bottles and began mixing the drink. Henoba saw that the bottles were moldy and clearly haven’t been washed in a long time. Or ever.

The bartender finished mixing the drink and slid it over to Henoba. “That’ll be thirteen chips.”

Henoba slid some pay chips over to the bartender. In places like this, the solar credit was worthless.

The bartender counted the money and chuckled, “Thanks for your business, goat.”

Henoba took a sip of the vodka and made a face. The drink was a lot less strong than he was expecting. It was clearly watered down by an exceptional amount. Whatever, he wasn’t here for the drinks. He had a job to do.

Henoba periodically looked at the entrance to the bar to see if his quarry had made their arrival. After what seemed like an eternity, a figure entered. His diamond rings and gold chains gave away his wealthy status to anyone who bothered to look. His clothing looked exquisite, most likely made from expensive and rare exotic materials. Surrounded by a small entourage of armed guards and scantily-clad androids, the figure approached the bartender.     

“Oi, Bensa. You know why I’m here.”          

The bartender looked away from the newcomer, his attention diverted towards a glass that he was cleaning. “Can’t say I know who you are, mate. You gonna buy something or are you just here to fucking browse?”          

The newcomer stabbed a knife into the countertop. Henoba took note of this. _That must be a damn expensive knife to be able to sink into a marble countertop like that._

“Bensa, I’m tired of playing games,” the newcomer angrily remarked. “I gave you three months to scrape up the money that you owe me. Now, if you don’t pay up right this moment, my pals here are going to have to do something violent.” One of the androids was busy stroking the stranger’s beard.

A single bead of sweat dripped down the side of Bensa’s head. He continued looking away from the newcomer. “Sorry, as I said, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

At the snap of the newcomer’s fingers, two armed guards approached. Both were armed with shotguns and holstered pistols. Leaping over the counter, one planted a knife into Bensa’s shoulder while the other grabbed hold of him. Bensa screamed in a terror-fueled rage. Kicking Bensa’s legs out from beneath him, one of the guards picked him up by the neck and held him off the ground. Henoba continued to sit motionless, as he couldn’t risk revealing himself as a threat to the newcomer.

_Being able to pick up a large man with only one hand like that is impressive, even for someone who is insanely strong. Probably cybernetically enhanced,_ Henoba thought to himself.

Together, both men threw Bensa over the counter and into a table. The impact tore his right cheek clean open and his face began gushing blood. As the other bar patrons got up and smartly decided to run for their lives, the stranger approached Bensa.

“I’m done fucking around, Bensa. You never would’ve been able to start up this shithole of a bar without the loan I gave you. Did you really think you’d be able to pull a fast one and just fail to pay us back? My boss is done waiting, and frankly so am I. Nobody fucks with the Syndycyte. People much smarter than you have tried and failed.”

Bensa managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. Through his bloodied, gritted teeth, he responded, “Gh… Gharva you bastard…”          

Henoba’s ears perked up at the mention of this name. _Gharva. Gharva Lastk, enforcer for the infamous Syndycyte crime gang. The man I came here to take care of. Finally._

Gharva looked down at his silk scarf and shook his head. “Dammit, Bensa. You got blood on my solacian silk.” Turning to his guard, he sneered, “Rough him up a bit more, I got to clean myself up a bit. It’s rude to kill a man when you aren’t looking presentable.”

The guard nodded as Gharva walked to the restroom. A third guard moved to block the restroom door after Gharva went in. The other two guards went back to beating Bensa to a pulp.

This was Henoba’s chance. Quietly getting up from his seat, he slowly walked towards the restroom.

The guard standing in front of the bathroom door gripped his shotgun tightly as he saw Henoba approach. “Scram. If you really need to piss so badly, go piss in a beer glass or something. The drinks here are all basically piss anyway.”

Henoba smirked. “Well, you see, that’s not an option. I’m actually here to murder your boss.”

“Wh- “

The guard never got a chance to finish his sentence. He collapsed, a throwing knife embedded in his throat. The other guards were too busy beating up Bensa to notice the guard’s choked gurgling.

Whistling to himself, Henoba entered the bathroom. It was completely in a state of disrepair. Most of the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling were either burnt out or shattered, rendering the room dimly lit. Many of the linoleum tiles were either cracked, smashed, or missing entirely. Most of the stalls lacked doors, save for one.

Henoba stood behind Gharva, who was too busy trying to wash the blood out of his scarf in the sink to notice him. It had taken Henoba many days to uncover the information that revealed that Gharva would be at this bar on this day, so he wasn’t going to let the piece of shit slip through his fingers. Especially considering how much Gharva’s bounty was.

The distracted mob boss finally glanced up, spotting Henoba standing behind him in the mirror. “Who the fuck are you? That door was guarde-“

With a swift, fluid motion, Henoba swept Gharva’s legs, knocking him onto the ground. Gharva may have been high ranking in the Syndycyte, but his prestige meant that he was a lackluster fighter since he always sent lackeys to do his dirty work. Henoba reached into his side holster and drew a suppressed pistol. Aiming it, he emptied it into Gharva’s leg for good measure.

Gharva spat in a rage. He tried to get up to no avail, not realizing that there were currently six bullets in his right leg. Henoba got to work quickly, grabbing Gharva’s expensive scarf and tightly securing it around the mobster’s neck. Tossing the rest of the scarf over one of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, Henoba yanked the scarf as hard as he could with both hands, sending Gharva hurtling up to the ceiling. Smashing into the light, the large bulb shattered in his face. Blood splattered below onto Henoba.

Even though the bulb shattered, the light’s metal frame was still intact. Tying his end of the scarf to a restroom stall door, Henoba pushed the stall door open as hard as he continuously could, tightening the scarf around Gharva’s neck. As the scarf choked the life out of Gharva, his face turned from rage to terror.

Within moments, Gharva’s lifeless body went limp, having been hung by his own scarf.

Henoba decided not to stick around. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and took a picture of Gharva’s hanging corpse as proof that he successfully killed his mark. Grabbing some paper towels, he wiped Gharva’s blood off his face and exited the bathroom in a calm, orderly manner.

Looking over to his left, Henoba’s sighed. Bensa’s body was slumped over, covered in bruises. He had been beaten to death by the guards. _Poor guy. Not even a douche like him deserves that kind of death_ , Henoba thought.

“Hey, you, stay right there!” A guard shouted at the fluffy assassin.

Henoba froze, his gut feeling like it had been sucker- punched. _Fuck. I was careless._ He had failed to realize that the guards would easily notice the dead body of the guard that he had killed with his throwing knife.

Henoba slowly raised his hands and turned towards the man that had ordered him to freeze. The man, aiming his weapon, slowly approached him.

“You son of a bitch, what have you done? You’re coming with us-“

In an instant, Henoba threw a flash grenade onto the ground. Detonating on impact, it immediately blinded everyone in the room, except for Henoba as he had trained himself to resist its effects. In the ensuing chaos, Henoba bolted out the front door of the bar.

He emerged from the bar and into the streets of the enormous planet-wide city. The skyscrapers reached kilometers into the air, and they were so densely packed that most of the sky was blocked out. Millions of people were out and about, packed together on the sidewalks like sardines in a can. Cars and busses roared past on the streets, while dozens of starships zoomed above.

Henoba slipped into the crowd, virtually vanishing. Behind him, he heard Gharva’s guards bursting out of the bar. Resisting the temptation to run, knowing it would just draw attention to himself, he kept up with the crowd’s brisk pace and tapped at a communicator in his ear.

“Mara, it’s done. Gharva’s dead.”

A voice responded back, “I know, I saw. I tapped into the security cameras. Nice work with the scarf, although it might have been a bit overkill.”          

Henoba sighed, “How come I knew you were going to say that?”        

Mara giggled, “We’ve known each other for 3 years now. I’d be surprised if you didn’t start picking up on my personality traits.”          

“That’s fair. Where are you?”           

Mara laughed, “That’s very funny. I’m at the ship, where else would I fucking be?”            

Laughing, Henoba stayed with the crowd for another 300 feet before slipping away towards an abandoned warehouse.

The warehouse was in just as much disrepair as the bar was, even entirely lacking a roof. Entering the structure, Henoba sighed in relief to see that his ship was ok. Sitting at 91 meters long, his ship, _From Rigilkent With Love_ , was average-sized compared to most other starships. Grabbing onto the footholds that were built into the ship’s outer hull, Henoba climbed up to an access port and entered the ship.

“Honey, I’m home,” Henoba remarked as he made it way to the cockpit.            

Mara’s voice emanated from a speaker built into the console: “You know full well that we’re not in a relationship. Hell, you know full well that I’m not even alive,” they said.  

Henoba chuckled, “Well, you’re an artificial intelligence that has sentience, so I would consider you alive. And besides, I was just joking.”

“Well then, jester, why don’t we get the hell off this godforsaken rock before the Syndycyte orders a hit on your ass.”

“Alright, alright. Mara, plot a course into orbit.”          

Almost at once, the ship’s drives roared to life. Increasing the throttle, Henoba gently brought the ship off the ground and used the vertical thrusters to increase the ship’s altitude. Exiting the warehouse through the roofless opening, the ship gained speed and height. Handing the controls over to Mara, Henoba strapped himself in and braced himself.

Mara activated the booster and the ship went hurtling skyward. Taking care to dodge all the skyscrapers, they stayed on their plotted course until the ship reached an altitude of 7 kilometers. Activating the escape thrusters, the ship began burning fuel from a special tank and accelerated to escape velocity, pinning Henoba to his chair. He was glad he’s done this thousands of times before, otherwise the high-gs would be very uncomfortable.

After 5 minutes, the ship entered low orbit. Mara’s voice crackled from the speakers, “Alright, where to?”     

“Plot a course to Asterope. That’s where I’m meeting the client and receiving payment. Flair is also meeting us there.”

Mara’s voice got noticeably happier. “God, we haven’t seen Flair in months. It’ll be good to see her again. Alright, I’m plotting the route now. Hold on.”

The ship’s FTL engine began charging, opening a gateway into lowerspace. In a flash, the ship rocketed away at ten-thousand times the speed of light. Asterope, being 248 light years from Betelgeuse, would take 9 days to reach.

Henoba leaned back in his chair and watched through the rear-view monitor as the bright burning ball of plasma known as Betelgeuse got smaller and smaller.


End file.
